


Ink stained Hands and ink filled Pages

by orphan_account



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Reading
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:55:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25484290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Ja’far gets a day off, and spends it reading a book.
Kudos: 5





	Ink stained Hands and ink filled Pages

**Author's Note:**

> NSFW mentions & rambling beware: I usually write for therapy, to get thoughts out of my head, (usually gore/sex/violence that I don’t like. Especially sex, I don’t want people fucking to be in my head, no thanks) but I wanted to do things I like reading for a while, the few Masja stories I’ve posted is kinda my try at that. But I’m not good at heartwarming stuff, or fluff, but I wanted to try to and write something about something I do love a lot, which is reading. 
> 
> Me reading yesterday to simple not overthink or be bothered by stuff gave me the inspiration. Read through The Tale of Despereaux. Wonderful book by the way, one of my favourites, and the drawings in it are very pretty.

Ja’far let his blunt nails tap against the upper page of the book he had in his lap. The subtle weight of it, the texture of paper under his fingers, the words neatly written out by ink that has long since dried out, letting him trace the words with his own ink stained fingertips.

The ink wouldn’t go away until he throughly scrubbed it away, and he still didn’t know why he let it happen, he worked with ink on the daily because of his job, but he shouldn’t let his fingers become dirty. He wondered if he should bring a small, damp piece of cloth to clean his hands after, even if it hadn’t worked very well last time.

He sighed, the sound disappearing quickly when Ja’far remembered that he was busy _reading,_ and he had promised himself (and a worrying Sinbad) to focus only on simple tasks that for him wouldn’t take too much energy to complete.

The act of reading, to be swallowed by a good story, empathising with interesting characters, to see the world that someone had been able to come up, the adventures... it drew him in, getting lost in the book, not getting disturbed by other thoughts, by overthinking problems or daily annoyances, only thinking of the words spelled out on the page and what would happen after the next page, and then the next.

It was a simple pleasure he didn’t get to indulge in too often, work being piled up everyday with Sinbad ignoring it. But to not worry about anything, being completely lost in a task that was fulfilling instead of _draining_ was...nice. He forgot how enjoyable the written word was, and he let his eyes trail over the last words on the page before closing it.

_And at last, the heroes happily ever after._


End file.
